


Divided

by FiendMaz



Series: Oceans Will Part In This War Of Hearts [17]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: BAMF Downworlders, Bad Parent Maryse Lightwood, Blood and Violence, Character Development, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explanations, Friendship, Graphic Description, Hurt Alec, M/M, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood Fluff, Murder, Protective Alec Lightwood, Protective Magnus Bane, Talking, Understanding Magnus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 17:35:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8410474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiendMaz/pseuds/FiendMaz
Summary: Magnus Bane finally gets his shit together and fully resumes his role as the High Warlock of Brooklyn. But before that, an already emotionally stressed Alec is faced with another problem, one that has been hidden from the Institute Heads for far too long and been causing alarm to Downworlders in the know.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Divide & Conquer by What So Not.
> 
> I just tweaked it a bit because it didn't feel right to have the whole song name as the title of this fic. Have a listen to it :)
> 
> __  
> This series is set in the Shadowhunters (TV) world so some things aren't as it is in the book but those that aren't touched upon by the show yet are based on book canon as obtained through the Shadowhunters wikia. The rest are written with liberty.

The sun had just risen, dawn as crisp as the New York foliage in its glorious peak, and the birds haven’t started chirping. Nonetheless, a gorgeous woman dressed in a light yellow sundress politely knocked on the loft’s door before entering and headed straight for the pristine kitchen.

Minutes later, delicate wafts of tangy lemon and warm spice of ginger floated through the open gap of the bedroom door to swirl around Magnus like a seductive song. He woke up with a small smile until he realised someone was in his home.

“Give me a break.” Magnus muttered. He groaned as he flopped onto his stomach and pulled a pillow over his head. He wasn’t tired anymore but he did like to sleep in. From the rays of the pink sun that streamed in from his half-closed windows, he knew it was way too early for him to be awake. Around five hours too early give or take.

He shifted to his left upon sensing Catarina’s gentle magic and the stronger scent of lemon ginger that came with her. “It’s too early for anything.” His bed dipped near his legs and a warm hand hovered around a centime above the side of his stomach.

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” Catarina teased rather brightly. “I moved my shift just to speak to you.”

That made Magnus poke his head out from under his pillow. His face scrunched into a concerned expression. “Is something wrong?” He swept his mussed hair from his face and slowly sat up. The hand over him fell away.

“Raphael called me.”

“For what?”

Catarina handed over a cup of tea. “He’s worried you’re losing focus.”

“Is this about Alexander?”

A full minute passed before Magnus sighed heavily, his breath breezed through the hot tea and made a puff of steam drift off sideways. He dragged his knees to his chest and leaned back against his pile of pillows.

“I’m your friend before anything else, Magnus.” Catarina started. “Alec means a great deal to you and so to me as well. I’ve been worrying over you ever since you fell for that conniving bitch and you became brighter shortly after meeting him.”

“I hear a ‘but’ coming.” Magnus muttered.

Catarina smiled. It wasn’t light or happy, more sentimental. “You’ve been dimming over the months. Honestly, I don’t understand why because as far as Raphael and the rest of the Downworlders are concerned, you’ve been spending all your time with Alec. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m fine.”

“Generally, when people say they are ‘fine’, they aren’t.” Catarina raised her cup of tea to her lips and tipped the refreshing liquid into her mouth. “You were never big on sharing anything personal. It took decades before you began to trust me or Tessa or… I don’t need to know, Magnus, not for now, but I think you owe it to yourself to find out what’s wrong.”

Magnus’ eyes darkened as he noted her pause and he nodded shortly.

“After you contemplate over your life,” Catarina started teasingly, earning a roll of the eyes. “Revisit your reasons for becoming the High Warlock of Brooklyn. And then, do what you must.”

“Is that all?”

“That’s all.”

“Raphael said something.” Magnus set his cup aside. “What made you come?”

“Hmm…” Catarina smirked provokingly at him briefly before her lips settled right back to that sentimental smile. “It wasn’t actually anything he said. I’ve been meaning to come after you temporarily vacated your position. You have had some very busy weeks being kidnapped and setting out to save that Nephilim.

“It’s very like you to be consumed by your love interests. That has always been your greatest weakness. People say love is blind but you take it to another level. You lose yourself. You forget who you are, what your purpose is and you become a shell, a ghost. As your friend, it’s my duty to pull you back from that.”

Magnus stayed silent.

“Besides, I love your teas.” Catarina snapped her fingers. The pot she had used to brew the leaves appeared between them on the bed and she lifted it up to refill her cup. “This one in particular is a delight to drink in the morning.”

“You can just snap some for yourself.”

Magnus knew it would never happen. Catarina was a healer at heart. She would never do anything that would hurt people in any way. Her aim in life was to help as many people as possible and, while he would never follow in her footsteps, he admired her for it.

“I don’t approve of stealing, you know that.” Catarina scolded. “I never fail to come across a patient that doesn’t have enough money to cover the medical assistance they need. I wouldn’t add to the number of poor people.”

Magnus smiled. “I know. It would make your life easier though.”

“Perhaps.”

“Will you continue to work throughout the war?”

Catarina tilted her head. “If you decide to fight, I’ll be right with you.”

“How far are you willing to contribute?”

“Whatever you need, Magnus, though I’ll avoid being in the front lines.” Catarina lifted her legs up and tucked them under herself to face him more fully. “I don’t want you to go into this war on your own without back-up. You’re too closely involved this time around.”

Magnus reached over and placed his hand over hers, a genuine small smile playing on his lips. His brows were furrowed as he encircled his fingers over her periwinkle blue slender wrist. He was feeling very warm all of a sudden as he remembered the last time they had such a long conversation with each other.

_“Ragnor just died. Do not do this. Be careful, do you hear me?”_

He turned over her hand and placed the tip of his pointer finger onto the centre of her palm. “I’ll think over what you said.”

“Then… I’ll be off.” Catarina stood up elegantly and moved closer towards the head of the bed.

Magnus looked at her as she curved her hand over the nape of his neck and closed his eyes when she bowed down towards him. His breath hitched when lips brushed over his forehead and he fought the overwhelming nostalgia that welled up in him at the gesture.

“Let me know when you decide.”

 

*~*~*~*

 

Countryside London was a picture of serenity that contrasted with the inside of the house sitting in the middle of the stretch of land. The large table in the living room was sparsely decorated with ornate teapots, silver teaspoons and teacups. Below it were splinters of wood scattered around, some discoloured by the liquids spilt from broken vials of potions. Spatters of dark matter smudged the otherwise pristine wooden floor along with scorched marks as if a child had took to playing with a candle to see the effect of fire.

Magnus was sat by the well-cushioned couch by the window, his back to the scenery. He was speaking lowly, animatedly. His face scrunched in annoyance, hinting at anger, mixed with sorrow. “I have not lost myself!” His hands disturbed the still air around him as he gesticulated to emphasise his words to the space before him.

“Don’t be daft. You haven’t been Magnus Bane for quite some time.”

Magnus shot up from his seat, cat eyes ablaze. “Who am I then?”

“You’re a ghost, old friend.”

The words were almost painfully similar to Catarina’s earlier that morning.

“Protecting Alexander doesn’t make me any less of myself.”

“You’re drowning, Magnus, in that toxic pool you call love and devotion. As you suffocate, you stop thinking coherently. All you see is that light above or, in your case, Alec. He has become your life, your reason to breath, your… motivation. Have you, even once, thought about Catarina and Raphael being the next casualty of this war?”

Magnus swallowed and flicked his eyes to gaze elsewhere. The answer was obvious. He hadn’t. “It won’t happen.” The words were heavy on his tongue.

“There are no guarantees even with immortals.”

“Impossible to forget.” Magnus pointed out. He could still feel a phantom cold body being held close to his chest, dead weight in his arms and the rough scratch of dirt grazing his soft skin whenever he thought too long or hard about his friend.

Ragnor gave him a look but otherwise ignored the jab. “Alec is a Shadowhunter and whatever he feels for you won’t override that. He may not harm you, he may even protect you but that doesn’t mean the same will be applied to other Downworlders. His main priority will remain within his race and so should yours. After all, the past tends to repeat itself and we Downworlders know that all too well.”

“It may not.” Magnus waved his hands and released a stream of smoke that shifted in the air to create a silhouette of a tall strong body characterised by a pair striking hazel eyes. “ _After all_ , a revolution needs but one man.”

“And you think Alec is the answer?”

Magnus let the image fade as he faced the window and re-wrapped Ragnor’s scarf around himself. “He represents hope, my precious lettuce. And hope has both the power to rebuild empires and reimagine destruction.”

“Hope won’t win you this war. It won’t save anyone.”

“No.” Magnus lifted his hand and started to lazily draw through the fogged panes of the window, clearing out lines and squiggles in nonsensical patterns. “Hope is for me.”

“What of the Downworlders?” Ragnor persisted. “They need –,”

“The High Warlock of Brooklyn?” Magnus guessed wryly.

“Leaders, Magnus. They need leaders. _Do your job._ ”

Magnus whirled around in a flourish and stared at the empty spot where he saw his friend last. “Of course.” He rubbed his fingertips together. “When have you ever not sided with Raphael?” It was rhetorical, said aloud in jest, and only because he had finally, grudgingly, decided to listen to what all his friends have been trying to say.

 

*~*~*~*

 

The text from Lydia came around fifteen minutes ago just as they cleaned off the last of the dessert from their Taki’s Diner take-away picnic in the Institute’s greenhouse.  As a result, Alec had hurried them all back down immediately after Clary cleanly packed their trash in a plastic bag that swung comically from Jace’s hand during their descent.

It was obvious upon arriving in the ops centre that something was wrong. There was too much hustle and bustle: everyone was running around and the noise level was high. A couple of steps in, Alec had been handed folder after folder concerning distress calls from some Downworlder establishments and other patrol groups. One folder in particular was a photograph compilation of dead bodies that Izzy rushed off to look over.

Alec stopped and reached out to grab his parabatai’s arm. “You and Clary go rest. The Clave will be here soon.” He let Jace pat him on the shoulder before he continued on and quickly entered the office – to see his mother – no, _Maryse_ and Lydia glaring at each other.

It would be a shock if he wasn’t so used to happening upon this scene.

“That is not your call to make!” Lydia reprimanded lowly, her eyebrows raised briefly to emphasise her words.

Alec let the door swing shut with a thud behind him to alert the other two to his presence. His eyes were on Lydia but he saw his mother turn around with a determined look on her face. That expression never boded well. It meant he was about to be coerced to do something against his wishes.

He wasn’t the same obedient law-abiding boy anymore however.

“Alec –,” Maryse started but Lydia quickly cut her off.

“There’s been a situation. Apparently, it’s been going on for quite some time already but Maryse has gone behind our backs –,”

“I did what I thought was best.” Maryse visibly fumed. “There were more important things to be concerned about and these issues don’t break any laws.”

Alec ignored her. “What is it, Lydia?”

“It isn’t important! We must focus on finding –,”

“Maryse,” Alec shot his mother a look to silence her. She seemed to stop in shock from the use of her name more than his glare. “Please leave. We have work to do.” He walked over to stand next to Lydia and set down the folders onto the table.

“These are?”

“The reports of what I’m assuming were those situations you were talking about.” Alec guessed. He visibly relaxed when he heard his mother leave the room. “How long has she been keeping this from us?”

“Since Jace disappeared, possibly. We’ll know once we go through these.” Lydia clarified. “The reports are about the surfacing of dead Downworlders throughout NYC. I believe these are the people Jace had to kill for blood.”

Alec sighed. “We’re going to have to think of a good cover-up.”

“Jace will confess to these murders. There’s no need to cover anything up.”

“I’m not talking about a cover-up for the Clave.”

Lydia’s lips parted for a second. “The Downworlders.”

“They won’t be happy if they find out the truth. As it is, since it’s been going on so long…” Alec rubbed at his forehead, feeling stress coming quick.

“No, I don’t think they know. We would have heard of these from Luke, Catarina or Magnus. None of them mentioned anything.”

“I’ll have Clary and Izzy dig for information from the Downworlders.” Alec picked up one of the folders and sauntered over to his chair. “We’ll plan afterwards.”

“Agreed.” Lydia took the next folder in the stack and was about to sit when there was a knock on the door. She turned towards Alec. “Expecting anyone?”

“No.”

“I got it.” Lydia put her hand up in a ‘stop’ motion and stepped away from her table to open the door. She stilled for a second but it was enough for Alec to realise she was surprised by whoever was at the door. “Magnus!”

“Hello, Lydia dear.” Magnus drawled smoothly as he walked into the room.

“Magnus?” Alec shot out from his seat and discarded the folder he was holding onto to his seat. A smile squirmed itself onto his face as the warm lilting voice reached his ears. “What are you doing here?”

“A little birdie told me I could find you here.”

Lydia went back to the table and put her palms down flat onto the folders.

Alec responded to her action and shifted to the side, aware of the open folder he left on the chair that contained the profile of one of the recently murdered Downworlders. He’d rather not have to hide anything but if Magnus didn’t know then this would be a terribly poor way to have him find out. “Has something happened?”

“Relax, darling.” Magnus soothed. “Can we talk elsewhere?”

“Of course.” Alec pursed his lips. He had wanted to see Magnus ever since leaving the loft at the start of the day but now that the warlock was in front of him, he found he wasn’t all that ready. He was still boiling over a lot of different emotions and he had no desire to go through it all before Jace’s trial in the afternoon.

The Clave was arriving in an hour, he had folders of reports to go through and he hadn’t even begun to think of how to word what he wanted to say. He looked at Magnus sideways, his heart aching at how gorgeous the other looked, and remembered with a jolt that he wanted this to work so badly.

They reached the hallway of the Lightwood siblings’ rooms and opened his, backing himself against the door to let Magnus pass before closing the door and using his stele to mark a soundless rune on the wood. He took a deep breath and turned around to face the other.

Alec’s eyes traced over the smooth shimmering existence before him and he managed a small smile. “I haven’t texted you.”

“I wanted to see you so I decided to drop by.” Magnus shrugged nonchalantly.

“Is that really the reason?”

“I always want to see you, Alec.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Magnus’ eyes calmed a bit, maybe, Alec couldn’t explain it but something in those gorgeous brown eyes changed and it was a tick he filed away for future reference. “I have business to attend to later.”

“Why don’t you want to tell me that?”

“Oh, darling,” Magnus cooed. “It saps all the romance away.”

Alec pocketed his stele and went to sit by the edge of his bed. He gestured for the other to sit and crossed his arms. “Listen, Magnus, I… appreciate... I don’t want you to change but I need you to be honest with me. Always.” He shook his head. “That’s not it. You’ve never lied. Just… Could you – I need you to tell me everything.” He uncrossed his arms and ran a hand through his hair. “This thing with Jace… You can’t do that again. You need to tell me. He’s my parabatai and I deserved to know yet you didn’t tell me. Why?”

“I worry, Alexander. Every time the mission involves Jace, you become a different person.” Magnus laid his hand onto the space between them.

“That’s not… a good reason, Magnus.” Alec hung his head back and closed his eyes. “Jace is my parabatai and Izzy’s brother. You had no right to keep information from us.” He stood up fluidly and started to pace. “We’ve gone over this. I’m a Shadowhunter and the co-Head of this Institute, I am perfectly capable of handling myself in a fight. You don’t need to protect me.”

“Alexander –,”

“Did you even have any back-up?” Alec loomed above Magnus and his face turned stormy when the warlock didn’t meet his gaze. “You went alone. You went into battle alone. Again. You can’t keep doing this. You promised me you wouldn’t sacrifice yourself anymore. You _promised_.”

“Alexander, I’m sorry. It –,”

“Do you trust me?”

Magnus snapped his mouth shut and his eyes widened. He looked shocked but mostly guarded. “It wasn’t a question of trust.”

“Then what was it?”

“It’s a variety of different reasons, Alexander. Ultimately, though, I just didn’t want to see you get hurt. You say my first reasoning isn’t good but from where I stand, it’s valid and it’s true. You become reckless, not unlike your parabatai, and it’s dangerous. It wasn’t my call to make, you’re right and I know. Nonetheless, I will still stand by it.” Magnus’ eyes pierced into dark hazels. “I promised Jace I would bring him home back to you and that’s what I did.”

“I get where you’re coming from. I do.” Alec deflated. “From the beginning, you saw what I was capable of. You believed in me when my own mother didn’t. Don’t change now. Don’t take my decisions away from me. Don’t keep things from me. Don’t…” He swallowed. “I told you we should be equals. This can’t work if you keep deciding things on your own.”

“I apologise, Alexander.” Magnus replied sincerely. “We’ll talk through it next time.”

“How can I trust you?”

“I keep my word.” Magnus insisted. “You know very well that the Seelies were on our side against the Circle so I wasn’t helping your parabatai fend them off alone.”

“How sure were you they wouldn’t turn on you?”

“I have my ways.”

Alec took out his stele and started twirling it. “I won’t ask you to reveal everything to me just yet. However, know that I will want to know everything about you and what you do in the future.” He murmured earnestly as he stared at his instrument. “Okay?”

“If it’s important to you then of course, Alexander.”

“It’s important.” Alec released a breath and, after pocketing his stele, pulled Magnus to a stand. He squeezed the warlock’s hands and leaned down to brush his lips against the other’s. “Thank you for bringing Jace back.”

“Anything for you, Alexander.”

“Magnus…”

“Yes, darling?”

Alec pulled the hands he was holding closer to wrap around his back and then encircled the warlock’s shoulders. He hugged the other close and revelled in the warmth. There was a lot of things he wanted to say in this moment now that the other issues have been dealt with for now. _How are you? Are you okay? Have you grieved?_ Even though his heart ached for Magnus and the death of his friend, he was at a loss as to how to breach the subject.

Should he even breach it?

He didn’t know so he settled on hugging Magnus closer, tighter, until neither of them could pinpoint exactly where one started and the other ended. It was a quiet sort of support that he personally searched for in hard times whether it was shown through a hand on his arm or a sympathetic look or a heartfelt hug (usually by Izzy) or being given food – the ways were endless.

It seemed right to be holding Magnus in his arms so that’s what he was doing.

“Darling,”

Alec hid a smile behind silky black well-styled hair as Magnus curled into him to rest his shimmering face by Alec’s heart. It was a good moment, a warm one, and it was ruined by a knock. With a sigh, he pecked Magnus’ cheek and swivelled to answer the door.

It was Lydia.

“The Clave’s coming in ten minutes. Thought I’d warn you.”

“Thanks. I’ll be right out.” Alec looked behind him and held his hand out. When Magus took it, he led them out of the room, through the hallways and ops centre, straight for the Institute doors with the delightful sensation of the smooth skin of Magnus’ thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hand. He stopped by the entrance and pulled Magnus close once more. “It’s best if the Clave doesn’t see you for now. Text me when you’re free and I’ll call you. Alright?”

“I can’t wait, darling. Tell Blondie to kick ass.”

“I will.” Alec smiled as Magnus tried to tame his hair. It was such a stupidly affectionate and casual gesture that it made his heart do summersaults. He caught the copper-toned hand and brought it to his lips. “Stay safe.” Again, he wanted to say more. Wanted to convey his sympathy but he was out of his depths. He was always bad at comfort. He just hoped that the warlock understood what he was trying to give.

“Thank you, Alexander.”

And, Alec thought, Magnus always did.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Heavy footsteps pounded the burnt wooden steps of an abandoned brick building and caused dust to be displaced only to disappear into nothingness leaving blue sparks in its wake. Two men trudged up the exhausting wind of the staircase, a casual conversation flowing between them that hinted at a friendly relation.

They reached the landing and headed straight for an ornate dark red door that swung upon in welcome and closed after them. Their conversation continued right through the hallway and into the living room where one of them sat and the other headed straight for the mobile bar.

“Trouble in paradise for the mother and daughter. Though, it seems Clary is winning the argument.” Magnus poured a cap of vermouth into the shaker full of ice and used a bar spoon to give it a swirl. “I know Jocelyn’s been teaching her some tricks.”

Luke looked at him. “Who told you? It can’t be Alec.”

Magnus poured in two shots of gin and winked. “You know.” He swirled the drink again, the ice clinking beautifully.

“Eyes and ears everywhere.”

Magnus smirked and snapped his fingers.

The martini in the shaker drained as the martini glasses filled and each was garnished with an olive stabbed through by a toothpick.

Luke watched with pleased amazement as he took the drink being offered to him. “Are we fighting Valentine on our own?”

Magnus laughed. “I’m omniscient, Luke, not omnipotent. No, we are not.”

“I had to clarify. You seem pretty intent on keeping Alec away from danger.”

“And I wish to continue to do so.”

“Wish?”

“Being a former Shadowhunter, you must know how Alexander feels being treated like a damsel in distress.” Magnus told the werewolf. “It wasn’t my intention. I should have learned from Jocelyn.”

“It is pretty similar.” Luke chuckled. “I can’t fault you. Can’t fault Alec either. It’s about understanding both sides, respecting, and trust.”

“The conversation went a bit like that.”

“It went like that with Clary too.”

Magnus smirked. “Bet that went over well with Jocelyn.”

“Oh she was furious. Clary’s barely a year old in the Shadow World and she’s insisting that she can fight like any other Shadowhunter.” Luke shook his head. “It’s a mess. Like a baby saying they can take down an elephant when her mother can’t.”

“Clary would love to hear that analogy.”

“She’d be pissed at me too. For now, we’re going to agree with her and train her as best we can. Otherwise she might start going on reckless missions to prove us wrong.”

“And we can’t have that.” Magnus mused. “Alexander will no doubt get hurt in the process.”

“She does tend to bring an army with her. Not one to go solo flight: Clary. Always a fighter but always, always, in need of support.” Luke smiled. “I don’t know if I should be happy or not.”

“Be happy she will never be alone when in danger. I, however…”

“You got the hardest one to take care of.”

“Exactly.” Magnus took a long sip of his drink. “Alexander’s a protector. He will fight until his dying breath without concern for his own well-being. Really, can you blame me for shielding him when I can? No.”

“It would hurt his pride to hide behind you.” Luke pursed his lips. “Although, Alec does not strike me as a man who would get mad at you for that.”

“No.” Magnus agreed. “It’s more than that. I reiterate, he’s a protector. It is against his core being to be the one protected. It’s not entirely about pride. More, his sense of duty – which is very strong.”

Luke nodded solemnly. “I’d be proud to have him as my son.”

“By all means, adopt him.” Magnus rolled his eyes. “Maryse and Robert sure as hell don’t deserve him.”

“He’d have to be an orphan for that to happen.”

“It might just…” Magnus murmured contemplatively.

“They have many faults but I can tell Alec still respects them as his parents. He may not love them anymore –,”

“What do you mean,” Magnus sat up straighter. “’ _Not love them’_?”

Luke opened his palms up and outward though they remained in place by his lap. “I don’t think Alec has loved his parents for a very long time. It’s not there in his eyes. He follows his parents out of a sense of duty but mostly for his siblings. Now that he knows his parents won’t protect his siblings, Alec has been gradually asserting his position of power to block Maryse from having any control.”

Robert wasn’t even considered a threat.

Magnus would have laughed at that if he didn’t latch onto the rest of the words. “It isn’t just Lydia challenging Maryse?” He frowned and took Luke’s silence for what it was: a negative.

So Alexander was fighting his parents now. Was he to blame for that? He was half-serious about getting rid of Maryse and Robert. It was a thought, perhaps a serious one, but he would never act on it. He _had_ never acted on it despite their past as he knew what it was like to lose one’s parents. He would not inflict that pain on anyone least of all Alexander.

“I took a video of one of their showdowns. Do you want to see it?”

Magnus couldn’t concentrate on what Luke was saying. He was more than concerned about the role he played with the new dynamic of the Lightwoods. For all the hate he had for Maryse and Robert, he didn’t want anyone to be estranged from their parents.

It was because of him that this was happening, however. Alexander was fighting his parents. He had started the ball rolling when he crashed the wedding. This was on him. If the Lightwood children lost their parents because of a rift, it was on him.

His magic sparked.

“Raphael.” He greeted just in time for the vampire to appear by the couches. Damn brat always used vampiric speed to ensure he would be alerted less than a handful of seconds that someone had entered his wards.

“Did you two exchange notes on how best to fawn over Shadowhunters while waiting?”

“Shut it and sit down.” Magnus flipped his old friend off.

“ _Cabrón_.” Raphael threw himself on the couch. “Are we waiting for anyone else?”

“What, are you expecting the fair folk?” Magnus snorted. He stood and sauntered over to the window, leaning against his wall to peer down. “There are two more individuals coming. Try not to pick a fight, _querido_.”

“I hate them already.”

 

*~*~*~*

 

Gruesome photographs of murdered Downworlders decorated the coffee table before the lit fireplace where red embers escaped. The orange glow casted shadows all around in harmony with the sombre atmosphere and serious discussion taking place in the loft.

Outside, Brooklyn was vibrantly twinkling amidst the violet backdrop of the night showcased in between the open balcony doors. The gust of wind that picked up at the late hours of the day breezed in the loft, cooling the large expanse of the lounge.

Magnus waved his hand and used magic to blow up all the photographs. He ran his eyes carefully along the twisted butchered bodies and catalogued every trauma.

“Every photograph except the last three show signs of the dead individual being completely overpowered by multiple assailants.” Luke pointed out clinically. “They are butchered. No sign of being able to defend themselves.”

“Another thing,” Praetor interjected. “Those last three were bled out. Not one drop of blood was left. I believe the previous deaths were done in anger or by an out of control demon.”

“Why did you photograph them all and not just the last three?” Tessa inquired politely.

“All of these deaths are important. To kill a Downworlder takes much power and skill. To butcher one so severely is a very rare occurrence. It may be the Circle or we have a dangerous entity in New York. Either way, these need to be addressed.”

Magnus shoved the last three photographs aside. “Luke, what do you think?”

“No claw or bite marks. It seems to me that these people were either beaten to death or blown apart. Possibly warlocks?”

Tessa shook her head. “If it was a warlock, there would be holes punched through the body.”

“Forsakens.” Magnus uttered distractedly. In his mind’s eye, he was re-visualising the fight he had in the warehouse. “Valentine’s enhanced Forsakens carry weapons, are incredibly strong and hard to kill.”

“Right.” Luke closed his eyes briefly. “The Forsakens that attacked the Jade Wolf had spiked bats.”

Magnus snapped his fingers and the photographs before them vanished, leaving the last three that were previously shoved out of sight. “Now these.”

“They show typical defensive injuries and slashes from a blade. Most likely Shadowhunters.” Luke concluded. “How were they drained?”

“They were bled out in a very medical and methodical way.” Praetor explained. “There were entry points for needles in each of those bodies.”

“The Forsakens that attacked the Jade Wolf had some type of angel blood in them.” Magnus shared. “It’s possible Valentine is trying out Downworlder blood instead.”

“We know the angel blood was used so they could enter the Institute.” Luke furrowed his brows. “Is there any important Downworlder haunt that wards by blood?”

“The Clan has been hearing rumours,” Raphael, who had been quiet ever since the photographs were shown, finally spoke. “About the Ritual of Infernal Conversion.”

“What do we know of it?”

“It’ll allow him to summon demons and control them.” Magnus answered.

“He would need the Mortal Sword first and that is in the Silent City.” Luke confided, a trace of surprise in his features. “And he’s missing fey blood.”

“We should warn the Seelies. They are the most accessible of fey.”

Magnus looked away. After that mess Blondie and he had made inside Faerieland, he wasn’t too keen on speaking to any of the Seelie knights or the Queen herself. Besides, there was a high chance the Seelies knew to be wary. “I’m not doing it.”

Raphael glared. “You have contacts within the Seelie Court.”

“Not doing it.” Magnus repeated petulantly.

Tessa smiled a bit. “The Shadowhunters can send the message. Surely they know about these deaths. Ah, unless, Praetor, you have the bodies?”

“The Shadowhunters have them.”

Luke made a noise. “I don’t think so. Clary would tell me. Hell, even if Clary doesn’t know, Alec would tell me. Werewolves have died and warlocks –,”

“Alexander didn’t mention anything to me either.” Magnus licked his lips slowly. “Is it possible they don’t know?”

“Not possible.” Praetor denied. “I had members of Praetor Lupus deliver the bodies to Shadowhunters on patrol.”

Magnus raised a brow. “I’ll call Alexander later.” The three photographs disappeared into thin air. “Let’s move on.” He conjured up a Chrysanthemum Cocktail from the Savoy and took an indulgent whiff.

“The Institute has been monitoring Valentine’s movements. There hasn’t been any disturbance in other cities, states or countries. It’s clear he’s concentrating on New York.” Luke took a swig of his beer. “He wants Clary and he’d want Jace back.”

“We should find Downworlders willing to fight. Since Valentine is concentrating on New York, those who will be involved must live here or in the neighbouring cities and states. If we can get the mermaids’ cooperation, we will be able to find Valentine’s ship quickly. After that, we just need to destroy the Circle.” Magnus proposed.

“You want us to take on the Circle on our own?” Praetor exclaimed incredulously.

“Majority of the Downworlders won’t be willing to battle the Circle.” Raphael shook his head. “We won’t have enough manpower to overrun a ship crawling with Forsakens, demons and newly-turned Shadowhunters.”

Magnus crossed his legs, leaned back and took a languid sip of his drink. “That’s bullshit. We only need to overpower them and that’s easily done.”

“Except that the Nephilim should never know how powerful we are.” Tessa reminded.

“Let’s use mundane bombs and get it over with then.” Magnus joked.

“It’s not a bad idea.” Luke laughed, raised his hands up and shrugged. “Just that small problem of getting the bombs into the ship.”

“We should involve the Nephilim.” Raphael stated seriously, interrupting the banter. “They want Valentine dead as much as we do. We don’t need to fight the Circle directly or alone. Although, the Clave may or may not wish to fight alongside us depending on their current mind-set. I’m sure one of you can ask your Nephilim contacts.”

“As can you.” Magnus retorted but without much heat.

“I can tell you now,” Luke announced. “That the Clave is _not entirely_ susceptible. Some are already voicing the idea but most are apprehensive.”

“Reason?”

“I believe it’s mostly out of fear. Both misguided and well-placed.” Luke took a sip of his beer. “Most are scared we will turn against them because of who we are. The rest know we are not happy by how they have been treating us ever since Valentine resurfaced.”

“This is about Meliorn, no doubt.” Tessa nodded. “They aren’t wrong but unlike them, we look at the bigger picture.”

“There are also those who look down on us. They don’t see any reason for our involvement. The Lightwood parents are a great example.” Luke remarked with a pointed look.

Magnus rolled his eyes. “What do you expect from ex-Circle members?”

“I understand Magnus and Luke have Nephilim contacts.” Praetor clasped his hands together. “It would be beneficial to have a representative of the New York Institute here so we have a better insight of how feasible the cooperation between the Downworlders and Nephilim will be.”

“It has to be Lydia or Alec. Not anyone else.” Luke states plainly. “I’ve spent a lot of time at the Institute and I can tell you now, they have a tight reign. No information is spread or told without express permission by either of them.”

Magnus narrowed his eyes.

Praetor let out a surprised breath. “The Nephilim keeping secrets from one another. My, my… Things have changed.”

“The Nephilim have always kept secrets from one another.” Luke argued. “Though not to this extent.”

“More accurately,” Magnus quirked one side of his lip up. “They twist the truth and weave a story.”

Luke nodded. “Yes. It’s never been just quiet. It’s like a wall has been erected by the two of them barring contact from the Clave to the Institute’s people.”

“Why?” Tessa wondered.

“They don’t trust the Clave.” Luke shrugged. “While they don’t fully trust us, I believe they may be more inclined to side with us.”

“Just the Institute.”

“If we play it right,” Raphael started. “We don’t need the whole damn Clave to cooperate with us. We would only need the Institute’s help for the Clave to get involved.”

Praetor leaned back on his chair. “What do you have in mind?”

 

*~*~*~*

 

Magnus busily clinked away at his mobile bar as he made another cocktail concoction. The meeting had ended mere minutes ago and he was left deep in thought. He had busy days ahead rounding up the warlocks, creating a safe haven for those who wanted to hide and possibly using Pandemonium to host meetings with the Downworlders willing to join the fight.

It wouldn’t be such a task magically speaking. Socially speaking, it would be a bone-deep kind of exhaustion. That many Downworlders in one place would be a chaotic mess of personalities, pride, ego and bitter rivalries… He was dreading it.

Unfortunately, being the High Warlock of Brooklyn, it fell upon his shoulders.

Magnus pulled the cap of his shaker open and drained its contents into a cocktail glass. He picked it up and twirled around, happy with the beautiful cloudy lavender of the Aviation. His phone appeared in his other hand with a single thought and he checked it to see nothing.

He made his way to the balcony and leaned on the railing to stare out into the city. His text to Alexander was sent minutes ago and he was awaiting for the call with barely repressed anticipation.

Ridiculous, he told himself rather futilely.

Though the conversation would largely be about the dead Downworlders and exactly _why_ there had been nothing said about it, hearing Alexander’s voice was always a pleasure. He was also anxious to find out how their phone call would pan out. Would it be awkward? Strained? Or would it be as it was before?

The wards shifted and a brilliant albeit startled smile spread itself across Magnus’ glossed pink lips. He took a sip of his drink before turning around and was blessed by the sight of a windswept gorgeous ebony-haired Shadowhunter wandering through the entrance hall towards the living room.

“Magnus?”

“Over here.” Magnus called out warmly as he extended his hand out. His heart skipped a beat when hazel eyes met his own glamoured ones and long calloused fingers intertwined with his. “Good evening, Alexander.”

“I finished off my work and since you’re free, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to come by.”

Alexander was smiling in a way that lit up his face. There was a certain strain to it however that Magnus wanted to banish. He set his drink down to curl his hand around the boy’s nape and used that hold to tug the boy down until their lips were pressed softly together.

Space was non-existent between them and it was warm, intimate and inviting. A delicious contrast against the harsh November winds of near-midnight New York and utterly, delightfully intoxicating.

“You never cease to amaze me, Alexander.”

**Author's Note:**

> Downworlders are BAMFS. Downworlders uniting? EPIC. Can you tell I like Downworlders? Haha!
> 
> I was supposed to post this earlier but I was distracted by my overwhelming urge to bring positive vibes to the Harry Shum Jr. tag on Tumblr. So I got delayed by a day or two. Please shower Harry Shum Jr. with love on Twitter, Instagram and Tumblr! Vote for him [here](http://voteformost.net/contest-photo/676) ;)
> 
> Then go to People's Choice Awards to nominate the cast and vote for Shadowhunters!
> 
> Drop me a kudos, write a comment below and come chat with me on [tumblr](http://maztri.tumblr.com/).


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